


Mirror mirror on the wall

by ChocoNut



Series: Modern JB love [59]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Snow White Fusion, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fluff, Strangers to Lovers, True Love's Kiss, and a bit more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27105574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Cersei has a mirror that tells her all—that she's the fairest of them all, that Jaime belongs to her... until one day, it begins malfunctioning.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Modern JB love [59]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871
Comments: 32
Kudos: 92
Collections: Once Upon a Game of Ice and Fire: Snow White





	Mirror mirror on the wall

**Author's Note:**

> A crazy tale - I hope you make sense out of it.

Cersei’s angry expression and the venomous flash in her eyes warned Jaime that this was, perhaps, the wrong time.

He lingered by the door contemplating whether to enter now or come back later, when he heard her speak to her mirror in a pissed off tone.

“You’re lying,” she hissed like an angry snake. “This—this woman—how can it be? How the hell—” 

“What’s wrong?” Curiosity prevailed over hesitation and he entered, keen to find out to reason for her ill-temper.

Cersei shoved the mirror into his face. “Look—”

Jaime did a double take, for staring back at him instead of the pretty face of his girlfriend was the grim countenance of the ugliest woman the gods could probably have created.

“Did you ask the mirror a different question this time?” he inquired, intrigued by the appearance of someone different.

“ _Who is the fairest of them all?”_ Cersei glared at the freckled cheeks and shapeless nose. “The same as usual—down to the exact words.” She looked into her competitors eyes as if she wanted the choicest evils to descend upon her. “I wonder if it’s decided to taunt me today.”

That led Jaime to probe into logic. “You know it’s capable of nothing but the truth. And—” he looked back at the pale-faced woman in the glass “—she is fair, though—do you think it’s started taking things literally?”

All he got was more irritation in those envious green eyes.

“You said _fair,_ not beautiful,” he continued thinking aloud. After all, this _mirror_ was just a program, and for code to respond in a particular manner, the request had to be correct. “I wonder after this new update, maybe it has developed a—” 

“Oh don’t be stupid, Jaime,” she fumed, directing her anger at him. “It’s no error. I’ve been asking it the exact same question for years. And the answer has been flawless.” Her eyes were thin slits. “You know what the prediction is, and you know what happens to our future if it’s not me in the mirror.”

“The prediction is rubbish,” he dismissed, recalling the analysis the app accompanying this contraption had spewed out when they’d first started experimenting with it. The fairest would end up his one true love, they were told. And so far he’d had no reason to challenge it because his girlfriend was the permanent reply to her question. “You and I are meant to be together, Cersei.” He took her hand. “C’mon,” he tried to cheer her up with his most affectionate smile and a soothing hug. “The mirror’s just software, and I bet this is a malfunction. Don’t let it dampen your mood.”

Several seconds later, her arms went around his neck and she sank into his embrace.

“I’ll have them run a scan on it,” he reassured her, patting her head, “and I’ll make sure it’s fixed.“ 

As he walked out, he couldn’t help steal a glance back at the stranger blinking out of it. It had not reset yet. 

_Too ugly a face to be on a woman,_ he thought, _but those eyes…_

+++++

“This is Brienne Tarth, our new teammate.”

 _Shit,_ was his first reaction, but this being a formal meeting, he held his tongue. Instinctively he stole a glance at Cersei, and when she caught his eye, he noticed she was equally perturbed. And rightly so. Coincidences, he believed in, but this was a little too much. Just yesterday her appearance in the mirror had unsettled Cersei, and here stood before them that very face attached to an equally unladylike body.

But there was something about those eyes, though. Such a lovely pair, he was yet to come across, and they, sort of, exuded a magnetic pull towards him, something—

“Jaime?”

“Y—yes.” He held out his hand to the newbie. “Jaime Lannister. I’m one of the project managers for this team along with Cersei.”

The woman took his hand in her abnormally large one. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Lannister.”

 _You’re much uglier in person,_ he almost told her, but checked himself right on time. “If I were you, I’d spend every moment catching up with the work we’ve done so far. We have very high standards.”

“I assure you I won’t let you down.” She appeared to be a no-nonsense to-the-point person, someone who wouldn’t linger around for a word if she had no official business with you.

With that, she was gone, Jaime looked here and there to make sure no one was looking, and when convinced, he pulled out the mirror from his laptop bag. “Here—“ he handed it to his girlfriend “—I had it checked during the lunch break, but the strange thing is the diagnostic didn’t bring up any anomaly.”

Cersei threw him an incredulous look. 

“What?”

“You still think the mirror’s flawed?” She was forced to keep her voice below her usual, but Jaime could tell from her expression that this Brienne woman’s sudden entry into their lives had left her all jittery and insecure. “It has already begun, Jaime,” she said, a tense edge to her voice. “She’s here, and soon she’ll be after you—she’s going lead to my downfall—”

“This mirror—” Jaime reached down to discreetly take her hand “—this ridiculous fortune telling app you’re relying on—they’re a pair of crap, all nonsense, Cersei.” He came closer. “If you think someone like her can snatch you away from me—”

“The app has never been wrong, yet.” The colour drained from her face when her eyes went on a trip to the past. “Remember Tommen and Myrcella? Remember how it was so painfully right when it told me much in advance that they would both—”

“A fluke once or twice doesn’t mean it has to work perfectly every time,” Jaime continued to resist, slightly uncomfortable when he revisited the untimely deaths of their children. “This time, of course, you have no cause for concern. I’m not going to fall for this wench’s charms,” he said, then adding, “or the lack of it.” 

Mollified, Cersei warmed his heart with a smile.

Convinced she’d be alright, he left her cabin but those blue eyes and their experiences with the mirror and its allied app refused to leave him alone for the rest of the day.

+++++

Days had passed, and Brienne had, much to Jaime’s surprise, made her mark in the team with her extreme sincerity and integrity. A hard worker—more than anyone else around, she’d come up the curve to step up to the rest of them within no time. She began to shine in whatever assignment she took up and this, he started to notice, was the cause of jealousy creeping into some team members’ minds.

The mirror’s output apart, since Cersei was the one she was reporting to, Jaime had been smug all along under the quiet comfort of not having to interact with her much apart from the customary meetings and review discussions, but what unfolded was quite the contrary. Brienne’s work involved spending time with Jaime. Guiding and grooming her, reviewing her spreadsheets, the emails she sent the clients were his responsibility. 

With the first set of deadlines fast approaching, much to Cersei’s chagrin and Jaime’s helplessness, he and Brienne were the only ones spending increasingly long hours at work.

What surprised him was instead of his initial assumption that he’d find every minute he spent with the wench an ordeal, as time flowed by, he was beginning to enjoy and look forward to her company even when work didn’t require him to seek her presence.

Like this evening when he sought her out at the pantry knowing she’d be there around this time for a cup of coffee.

“Hey!”

“Hey.” She stiffened as he approached her. While it should not have bothered him, her reticence, her indifference to his attempts to have a friendly conversation, for some reason, pricked him.

“I hope you’re in for the Friday night party,” he asked, not knowing what else to use as an ice-breaker. Besides the fact that he genuinely wanted to know if she’d be making it, this was certainly better than inquiring about the weather in her part of the city.

“Is there an option?” She made a face like she was being sent to the gallows. “If there is, I’d rather stay home—”

“It’s mandatory.” He was near-certain if he said that, she’d attend without fail. Compliance to policies and adherence to the organizational rules was something she excelled in. “So unless you’re sick which—” he looked her up and down, taking in her manly stature, her freckled face “—you don’t appear to be, I’m afraid you have no excuse.”

“It’s going to be a punishment,” she said glumly, absently stirring her coffee. “I never really do well at parties. People rarely find me—” she stopped, presumably realizing she was giving out too much personal information.

A dozen remarks drifted through his mind, most of them neutral, some bearing words of advice, but what he had for her finally was an encouraging, “It doesn’t have to be the same every time, Brienne.”

She looked up at him, confused. “I—” Her phone beeped, pulling her out of the moment. “I must really be going.”

After she’d left, Jaime still continued to stand there, staring at the exit, empty cup in hand.

“I thought your choice would be better than _her_.” 

He turned to meet the condescending voice. Ronnet Connington, one of their senior members was smirking at him, coffee in hand, a cheeky glint in his eyes. Jaime held back an instinctive frown. Ron was one of those who had been jealous of Brienne’s exemplary performance right from day one.

“We were catching up on the agenda for the upcoming meeting,” Jaime lied, least interested in fueling any coffee-break gossip. “And I’m just—”

“Oh, I heard you,” Ron lazily cut him. “You were trying to impress her, to ask her out. You want to get into her pants—”

“I have no such intention,” he hotly denied. That he was seeing Cersei was unknown at work, so he had to make an effort to bite back an urge to blurt it out to the man’s face and settle this once and for all. “I was just—”

“That ugly wench?” Ron broke in again. “Have you even noticed her properly? That odd-shaped nose, those shapeless lips, girth and height the dimensions of a tree—”

“It’s in bad taste to criticize—”

“She’s beyond the realms of criticism,” Ron continued to mock, and Jaime felt his pulse beginning to throb in his temples. “Flat chested, I doubt she even has boobs—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jaime seethed, his grip on the cup tightening so much that he feared it might break. “Instead of standing here and commenting on fellow teammates, why don’t you get back to constructively utilizing your time, hmm?” The need to penalize him for this was greater than his wish to get out of here and never see his face again. “Your module is due for release next Friday, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“The deadlines have shifted,” Jaime proclaimed, wearing the same cocky smirk Ron had hurled at him barely minutes ago. “I’d like to have it done by _this_ Friday.” 

“You can’t do that,” Ron protested, gritting his teeth.

“I’m one of the managers,” Jaime coolly answers. “So I can and I will.”

This strange encounter refused to leave him alone all day and even after Jaime went to meet Cersei that night.

“Come on,” she purred in her sexiest best, undoing his shirt buttons as she caressed his face. “Come to bed, Jaime.”

Instead of obliging her, Jaime turned her away for the first time. “Not tonight. I’m not in the mood.”

+++++

 _“She’s the one,” said the mirror, its voice emphatic_ , _“not your vile girlfriend.”_

_“I don’t love her,” Jaime fought back, challenging its influence. “I—”_

_“While it might not be love right away, it surely is heading in that direction,” surmised the mirror, though it sounded more confident than a surmise. “Why else would you find reasons to throw yourself in her path?”_

_“I didn’t—”_

_“Why else would you pull up the colleague who spoke ill of her?”_

_“I did it because it was a decent thing to do.”_

_“You could’ve stopped with your reaction,” it went on. “What drove you to punish—”_

“Cersei’s the one I love. Not—”

Jaime sat up, sweating. His bed was empty, no mirror, and there was still a while to go before dawn.

He lay down again, but the dream had taken its toll on his sleep. The next couple of hours were tossing and turning around aimlessly in bed until it was time to get up and get ready.

“You do know this could’ve cost us the project, don’t you?” he heard Cersei chastising Brienne in her quietly menacing way when stopped by her cabin the first thing in the morning. “Considering how profoundly you’ve managed to impress Jaime, I expected better—”

He knocked, knowing it was time to douse whatever tension was brewing between the two women and stepped in. “What’s wrong?”

“The solution proposal for the Iron Bank Loans module—” Cersei took a moment off to award Brienne one of her worst glares “—she very nearly sent it out with a serious mistake—”

“I agree it was an error on my part,” Brienne jumped in, those exquisite blue eyes drowning in guilt and shame. “Give me an hour and I’ll set it right—”

“It should have gone out last evening,” Cersei continued her attack. “I had confidence in you, the faith that you would—” her sour glare shifted to Jaime “—It’s a pity really, all those hours I’ve found you putting in at work. Sadly, most of it was to build your social circle and perhaps more—”

“It was my fault,” Jaime stepped in, doing some quick calculations in his head. “Brienne handed it to me two days back. I should’ve pointed it out in my review, but somehow I happened to overlook it.”

Cersei looked angrier than before. “Had this made it to the senior management you could both have lost your jobs, Jaime.”

“I understand. Give us an hour and we’ll set it right,” he assured her.

“I never really sent you that document for review,” Brienne said quietly when they were out of Cersei’s earshot. “Don’t get me wrong—I am grateful, I really am, but you didn’t have to cover up for me. The fault was entirely mine.”

 _Yes, it was, but this was the right thing to do._ He recalled the mighty argument he’d had with Cersei the day after he’d turned down her advances. She’d pointed fingers at the mirror, blamed it on that prediction, accused him even of sleeping with Brienne. _I couldn’t have had Cersei punish you for my differences with her._

“Why did you do this for me, Jaime?”

His mind went back to how his day began. “I dreamed of you,” he absently revealed, though his answer bore no relevance to her question.

+++++

There she was, aloof in the farthest corner of the room, hidden away from the crowd. With only her drink for company, she looked like she’d do anything to get the hell out of here and never step into another party again.

Having no interest in the dainty beauties relentlessly trying to flirt with him, he refilled his glass and made his way to Brienne. 

“You can do better than _alone._ ” Resting his elbow on the table behind them, he settled down beside her and stepped into the depth of those eyes. “We aren’t that bad, you know.”

“Look at them,” she said wryly, glancing at the rest of the team mingling away in groups as if she didn’t exist. “None of them wants me among them—”

“I want you,” he blurted out, and when her eyes slightly widened, he amended it to, “I mean, I don’t really mind your company. I could stand here talking to you or—” Suddenly it was stifling around him. He wanted some fresh air, wanted some time out of this music and crowd. “We could go out for a walk.”

With a pull in his stomach he realized he wanted to spend this evening alone with her.

“You don’t have to do this,” she politely refused. “You’ve already treated me better than—”

“I’m not doing this because I _have_ to,” he cut in, wanting to clearly lay forth his intentions.

She hesitated, eyes drifting down the hall to Cersei who was downing countless helpings of wine. “She doesn’t seem to like you standing here and talking to me.”

Her vengeful gaze made Jaime uncomfortable, but for once, he decided to make his stand clear. And now that he’d broken up with her, it wasn’t as difficult as before. “She doesn't decide who I want to spend this evening with.”

Brienne looked here and there, still deliberating.

“Come on,” Jaime coaxed, “I won’t bite. I promise.”

She answered him with a girlish giggle, something that made her ten times more appealing. That she could smile or laugh was a new discovery, something he knew he’d definitely want to trigger more frequently.

“Why me?” she asked, when they were walking down the serenity of the deserted road, basking in the moonlight. “There’s a horde of people there, many women, who I noticed were craving for your attention.”

“I don’t need their attention,” he murmured, something about the romantic full moon prompting him to speak out what he otherwise wouldn’t have.

“What do you need then?” she egged him on softly.

“You—” he cleared his throat “—your company, I mean, not the pointless flirting I’ve been a target of for years.” 

“Why do you call it pointless?”

“Because—” he paused, weighing every word in his head “—I have no interest in them.”

She came to an abrupt halt. “What are you interested in?” 

“I know you aren’t married, but what about a boyfriend?” he asked, evading her question. “Is there one?”

His question drew a crushed expression. “Does it look like I have a boyfriend?” Again there was the tone of low self-esteem. “Who could possibly—”

“You never know,” Jaime cut her short, looking deeply into the eyes that always seemed to draw him into them. “You might even end up with someone as early as tomorrow.”

+++++ 

“Hey, where’s Brienne?”

“No message yet,” Bronn shrugged, then went by on his way. “Running late today, probably.”

Usually the first to turn up in the morning, it felt really odd with her still not in. He smiled, recalling their little _date_ last night, how it had left him thinking all night. They had talked their way through an hour, the magic ending when he’d dropped her home. Sometimes open, the other times elusive, she wasn’t entirely _not interested_ —that he could make out from her body language, her rare smiles which had been more than a single occurrence, the shine that lit up her eyes from time to time.

Maybe, Cersei was right. The mirror did, perhaps, have a good degree of authenticity to it. And the thought of it got his heart soaring, he found himself looking forward to meeting the wench after work today, and if his courage stood by him, asking her out—

“Jaime—”

He came out of his reverie to find a worried looking Sansa bursting to tell him something. “What—”

“Brienne’s very ill, it’s something she had last night. Some sort of food poisoning.” She was speaking very fast. “She was admitted late last night and has been in the hospital—”

The wind knocked out of him, Jaime was barely listening to the rest of it. 

The tales from his childhood were coming back to him. 

_Mirror mirror on the wall—_

While mirror was based on—no, but, not to this extent of detail, it couldn’t be this uncannily similar.

_Snow White—_

It was impossible—

_The queen—_

_The poisoned apple—_

“I’ll be right over to see her,” he told a very upset Sansa and dashed away.

_True love’s kiss—_

_Prince Charming—_

Maybe the mirror was right. Maybe this was his destiny. Maybe— All else took a backseat in his mind, the only thought being, _Gods, please don’t let her die!_

“You—” he fumed, barging into his ex’s cabin. “What did you do to her last night?”

She got up, putting on a straight face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she feigned innocence just like he thought she would.

“Don’t lie—” he gripped the edge of a chair “—you poisoned her, didn’t you? You were scared the mirror would snatch me away from you, so you decided to—”

“Yeah, I did spike her drink a bit, but she’s not dead, is she? From what I heard, she’s doing quite okay, unfortunately,” she cried, her voice cracking under the strain. “You were drifting too close to her. It’s because of her we aren’t together anymore—”

“It’s because of _you_ we aren’t together anymore,” he roared, not bothering to keep his voice down. “You know what, the mirror was right. And I’m going to make sure the prediction comes true this time again.”

Leaving her no chance for a reply or an explanation, he stormed out of there. He’d deal with her later, make sure she was ably punished for her deeds. But for now, his priorities were different.

+++++

He gazed at her limp form through the glass.

“The doctors have done all they can to pump it out of her.” Sansa had joined him by the door. “While there’s no real danger, she’s still unconscious and it all depends on how soon she opens her eyes.”

_True love’s kiss—_

“I need to go see her right now,” he decided, and pushed his way through the heavy glass door. He was the last one to believe in this fairy tale fantasy stuff, but there was no harm in giving it a shot.

“I’m sorry you had to go through this because of me,” he whispered, perching by her and slipping his hand in her lifeless one. “I hope the mirror’s right,” he wished out aloud in desperation. “And I am really counting on this to work—” he looked up, murmured a silent prayer and brushed his lips to hers. “I _am_ interested, Brienne,” he gently breathed, lingering there, prolonging the kiss. “I want your company and I want it so badly—”

A soft tug at his hand brought him out of his romantic monologue. Jaime straightened, his heart somewhere at his throat, relief washing over him as he looked into those beautiful eyes. “Brienne—”

“You came,” she said weakly, fingers curling around his.

“How could I have not?” he croaked, caressing her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. 

She nodded. “I knew you would.”

“How?” 

Brienne smiled. “I dreamed of you.”

+++++

 _Cersei Lannister arrested for attempting to murder her colleague on Friday night,_ screamed the headlines in the King’s Landing Times. _Internal office politics could be a possible reason,_ the article further speculated.

Jaime folded the paper shut and put it aside. Justice had been served.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, the mirror's software and it comes with an app. And I threw in a bit of the YMB prophecy as well for good measure. And it has all the cheesy elements of a fairy tale :)  
> Thank you for reading and do let me know if you liked it.


End file.
